Thick Heavy Clouds, Pregnant With Rain
by Scarlet-Songstress
Summary: The irritation. The exhaustion. The madness. All rise with the steam.


The initial warnings are the flowers.

They come in soft pastel cloud like clusters of purple, pink and blue; some with white hearts at their centres. Some of the hydrangea are so large in the gardens of UA that they weigh the bushes down and skirt the floors like dancers.

Mina suggests a picnic outside. They make a mini event of it that ends in a bento eating contest amongst the group. For all the posturing and flexing of the boys in the class it's Yaozoru that wins by a landslide.

The flowers trick them into forgetting what's next.

The unbearable humidity.

For two solid weeks after, moisture wicks the air. Leaving all in it drenched, sticky and drowning in a soup of their own sweat. The insects buzz on the lanterns outside and the pitched noise is close enough to nails on a chalkboard that some students show to classes the next day with the bags twice the size of their eyes.

Some students start fights the moment the first chime rings.

Everyone is irritable.

Everyone is exhausted.

A week in, the AC system shorts because of the extreme over use and almost immediately the capacity of detention is filled to the brim. Aizawa loses his patience and cancels everyone's quirk on the drop of a dime because he's just **that** done. Even All Might's smile sags, just a little.

Then, at last, the thick heavy clouds roll forward, teasing and promising relief. They cover the day with darkness. Mist and steam rises from the floor at night and it's so dense that you can even see the invisible girl moving though the moisture with ease.

The anticipation is frustrating.

The irritation.

The exhaustion.

The madness.

All rise with the steam. 

* * *

High pitched buzzing.

A small spark erupts from the edge of Bakugou's calloused fingertips as he stares up at the same, lazy circling mosquito that's been there for the last hour. It doesn't matter if he's bitten, he's been told. The nitroglycerin in his skin will neutralise the secretions of a mosquito and kill it. He won't even itch.

But it's not satisfying enough.

He raises his hand up and readies a small spark.

Before realising quickly if he lights it he might accidentally set his room on fire.

"Tch."

With great effort he peels his heavy, tired body off his cotton covers, the sheets sticking to arms and legs with the motion. He'll have to wash them carefully. They're particularly soaked in his sweat and though he's leaving his bed now, they won't dry off this humidity… and be just as gross when he goes back.

Irritating.

"Fuck this," he murmurs to no one, going to his closest and changing into a fresh tank top and shorts. If he's not going to sleep he's going to get some freaking air.

An angry Bakugou steps out of his room and into the cooler hallway outside. The edge of heat is taken off but it still looms as his bare feet brush the soft new carpet of the UA dorms. Down one set, then a second, then a third, he tiredly marches down stairs toward the thrum of the kitchen fridge in the dorm kitchen for a cool drink.

Perhaps that will help.

He opens the door and has to close his eyes because the light blinds briefly and icy chill spills out is instant relief. He presses his forehead against the top door and takes a deep breath of ice in relishing in the cool. If only he could live inside the fridge how much less of a drag would—.

 _What the fuck was the Perv doing curled around a lettuce?_

Taking advantage of his size Mineta was fast asleep in a FUCKING sweater inside the lower half of the communal fridge. His head lies on the vegetable as if it's a pillow and it's at this point Bakugou realises that his favourite sports drink is sitting outside said fridge not cooling down to the temperature it SHOULD. FUCKING. BE. BECAUSE OF THE FUCKER.

Bakugou slams the fridge in frustration and delights in Mineta's sudden panicked crying and screams. He takes a quick squig of the room temperature sports drink and walking out of the room, puts on his shoes and leaves the building.

If he's going to be awake he might as well be moving.

The clouds rumble with the promise of thunder but do not burst.

"Just fucking rain already," he growls.

They do not respond. (He suspects out of spite).

It's a few minutes dripping and moving and hating the world in thick soup when he spots her. On the floor in front of the outside toilets and just below its awning Uraraka Occhako sits with her big brown eyes lazy, hair pinned off her neck and ears, in a pair of tiny pyjama shorts and a black tank top, earbuds in. As he approaches (and he doesn't know why he does) she hits him with a sleepy stare that widens slightly when she realises who's approaching.

"Bakugou?" she gives a tired but friendly smile, taking out an earbud. "You too?" He plonks down next to hear because the heat is inescapable but the cool of the cement is infinitely better than the rest of it.

"Tch," he grunts and looks out beyond them at the silent quiet school grounds. This late at night there's no movement, but there's a collective restlessness in the air that's unavoidable.

He feels her gaze on him. Its curious and confused but after a few minutes of staring she smiles and offers an earbud out.

"Want to listen?" she asks, nervous lilt in her voice. The beat he can hear against the neon light's thrum is angry, bouncy, but recognisable. His eyes widen a little in surprise.

"Is that fuckin Thrash King?" A.K.A the hero musician team he loves to death but never would say out loud.

"Yep," she smiles, "I got their new album! Music helps distract from the heat so…"

He sighs and nods and she shuffles close so the earbud won't fall out. He hasn't heard their latest work except on the radio and the distraction is mostly relieving. The tunes this band pops out are legendary for their aggressive beats. Easy to work out to, too. This album seems a little quieter than their usual work but just as angry. It helps.

After a bit, he realizes the only thing that's distracting from the music is the girl now incredibly close to him. Uraraka looks out to the empty school grounds, occasionally tapping of her finger to the beat of the music. It's hard not to notice, even in the darkness, the glistening of sweat dripping down her face, down her neck, into her…Bakugou reflexively straightens and clears his throat. The heat is getting to him. Because quite frankly, she's too close and too hot ( _-FUCK- not hot, hot, just body temperatures and FUCK_ ) to be this near. He huffs and settles into looking away. This pulls out the earbud and he swears, adjusting before the process repeats and she's suddenly even closer trying to help by closing the distance. He feels the softness of almost all of her bare leg against his calf and the alarms in his head scream.

Shit.

He takes out the earbud and moves over a little, mumbling something about it being too hot for this shit. She nods, though disappointed. He wills his stupidity away because a fucking extra like her, even if she's proven herself to be occasionally at his level, shouldn't be something he worries about.

Eventually Uraraka gives a frustrated sigh and takes out hers too, wrapping the cord around her phone. Stretching her arms over her head let's Bakugou see a hint of something underneath her top but she doesn't seem to notice the struggles he's putting himself in when she flops back boneless against the wall.

"The heat has to stop at some point, yeah?" she mumbles more to herself than him, "The rain's got to start soon, right?"

He grunts, glaring up at the clouds, willing it to happen.

They still don't respond. (Still likely out of spite.)

He won't admit to startling a little when she straightens suddenly. Because in a heartbeat she's got this sudden life to her and it contrasts as loud as an alarm and shakes some of his exhaustion off.

"Bakugou!" she turns. Eyes shining. He can already tell he won't like this.

"What?" he grumbles.

"Where do snowmen keep their money?" He stares at her for a long while before moving.

"I'm leaving." The hand shoots out to grab the edge of his shirt before he can fully raise himself from the floor and tugs him down. He thuds back on his butt and growl angrily, Bakurage engaged, but mainly at himself. That was faster than expected. He must be exhausted if he's letting this happen. Uraraka, however seems undisturbed.

"Humour me? If I talk about cold things then maybe I'll cool down," she whines.

"Round Face," he warns. Though the logic is sound. Mind over matter, right?

"Where do snowmen keep their money?" she repeats. He sighs.

"Fuck, if I know. Where?"

For a brief moment, her face is serious, as serious as her fighting. It makes him pay that little bit more attention.

"The _snow bank."_

The snicker escapes her before she can finish and in flash she's laughing at her own joke. He can't believe he's dealing with someone this stupid.

"You're a dumbass," he barks.

"Takes one to know one, _fuckwit_ ," she replies without thinking and throws her hand up when his eyes go wide.

"Did you just fucking swear?" more in shock than offended. Good girl Uraraka has a secret potty mouth? (Hot.)

"It happens!" she defends, puffed up with pride (and for a brief moment Bakugou allows himself to think it cute.) "Ma, does it all the time whenever she gets injured. Dad does it more. Construction will do that to you." Her hands fall down back around her legs and she pouts into them. "Besides…Dad use to pass days with a million jokes when the weather was bad."

Then slowly, her eyes cloud over and she looks out with a sadness he recognizes but denies himself because it's got no use to a hero.

"I miss _home_."

She whispers it, broken and lonely and as soft and vulnerable as a snail without a shell. He watches her curling into herself as if she had one, her arms wrapping around her knees. It's been months proper since they've left their families and between the villains and the work none have really done more than call or message their folks.

The words are out of his mouth before he can deny them.

"Me too."

Those brown eyes of hers slide back slowly and he feels a modicum of regret of letting a little of himself bare. But the girl beside him has no fear, she is straight where others fail, her words direct and do damage only if one wasn't honest with themselves.

Uraraka Occhako is not stupid enough to disrespect him with pity.

She has too much faith in people for that.

So, when she gives a light sleepy smile and asks "What's home?" Bakugou forgets who he is and lets himself answer. They fill the early morning with sleepy words of family. He misses his stupid mother's screaming and his father's general calm reassurance. He misses seeing Deku's mother hanging out things to dry as he walks to school. He misses the smell of the bakery down the street and the rusted noise of the swings in the local park. He tells himself constantly it's the tired talking, because there's just no way he can be letting all this out with such ease.

She weakly snickers multiple times throughout and teases softly. He growls back with a smirk without bite and fights the sleep overcoming him for the brown eyes see through his soul.

Those eyes glitter with care when she speaks of her parents then blaze when she speaks of dreams of providing for the family that has done so much for her. Though she's half asleep she speaks with a level of energy that contrasts how exhausted he is. The contrast makes him so much more aware of it.

Numbly, he feels himself sliding at his limits, down against the concrete wall. He hits heat but cannot bring himself to care, eyes shutting on impact.

"Bakugou?" concern whispers above him. He can't bring himself to answer.

It's still for a moment before a shaky hot arm wraps around his shoulders and brings him in. He feels her heart racing as she tucks him against her gently. He can smell the sweat and sweetness and it overcomes him. He feels himself sag and still and though awake, he doesn't move.

It's intimate for a long time.

Then a cool breeze floats over and the dark clouds above them rumble loudly.

"Wha?" Bakugou raises his head off his place on Uraraka and feels the arm securing him hastily retreat. He wakes further to the piercing crackle of thunder.

A flash of light. Lightning strikes somewhere far.

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

At last, the clouds above them _finally_ break.

Fabric rushes past and in seconds Uraraka is out in the downpour.

"The fuck?!" he shouts in a mild panic. She either ignores him or can't hear him over her excitement he's not sure but soon she's spinning her hands out and opening them like she's giving the sky an embrace. Within seconds she's soaked through and her laughter pierces through his heart like a lightning bolt.

"Bakugou!" she yells. Half paying attention because she's remembered he's there. Her hair clings to her face and neck and thunder and lightning crash in the distance. "It's raining!"

"I can see that, Round Face!" he shouts (not concerned at all). He hovers at the edge of the awning's protection. The rain falls harder. She jumps up and down in forming puddles and laughs harder and harder as she gets more and more soaked through. He swears she's going to get sick at this rate.

" **Uraraka**!" She turns in mild surprise probably because he called her name. He ignores the weakness he's feeling in his gut and as always covers it with rage. "It's a goddamn storm. Are you fucking crazy?!"

She comes back but stops just short of shelter. Raising a hand, pinky tucked in, she smiles at him so brilliantly if he wasn't in trouble before he most certainly, most _definitely_ , is now.

"Bakugou."

Her eyes are fire in the rain.

"Join me?"

(When the story is told much later, he doesn't hesitate.)

Uraraka pulls him out a few dozen steps laughing and Bakgou lets her drag him. The rain pierces his clothes and cools him till it sticks to him like a second skin. The relief is so strong he starts laughing before he realizes it, grabbing her hand tighter and running alongside her without abandon.

Subconsciously he wonders if he's gone mad, especially since Uraraka looks at him like she's seeing him for the first time. Her mouth is partially open and from what the dark will let him see and the splash of water in his eyes, he sees her eyes go wide and embarrassed. Her cheeks grow pinker than they were and it makes her look cuter than before.

He likes it.

"Alright, idiot," he shouts over the rain, "I ain't catching a cold for this." He tugs her toward the shelter but she just grins and slips her hand out of his grasp.

" _Make me_ ," she challenges, running full pelt as far away from him as she can.

He swallows.

Oh, yeah.

He's in _trouble_.

* * *

Tsuyu, finds them of course.

This kind of weather is her element and has been in a state of froggy bliss for the last month. The heat has been a bit much but the moisture in the air makes her feel like she can do anything. It keeps her awake at night and ready to attack but keeps her fully rested and bright.

The first drops of perk her ears and she can feel this steady sigh of relief and the air runs cooler and the rain starts.

Lightning strikes outside.

A moment passes before she remembers that she saw Occhako popping outside for some air before she managed to shut her eyes and rest up before the rain.

Said rain pours harder.

Not bothering with an umbrella, she bounces outside to investigate.

She finds them lying asleep against the outside toilets under the lamp light and cover. They're both soaked through and dripping. Occhako has her head in the crook of Bakugou's neck and an arm wrapped around his middle. His arm is wrapped securely around her shoulders and draws her closer. There's a music player between them, an angry mp3 beat emits from their ears drawn down a shared pair of earbuds curled in Occhako's lap.

Their free hands are intertwined.

And the thick heavy clouds hanging over them pour harder.

* * *

A/N I don't write much, but when I do its about the weather.


End file.
